Sparkling Angel tears of love
by Scimitarmoon
Summary: Warren is persued by yet another MarySue. She seems to be a perfect, beautiful woman with a tortured past involving communism, but he knows she's really an author in disguise.
1. A chance meeting of fate

AN: There are so many Warren/Mary-Sues on I just had to.

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, Mary-Sues of every gender, purple prose, themes of obsession and some dreadful angel puns.

Disclaimers: Marvel and Stan Le are A REASON TO LIVE!

Summary: Warren had so much on his plate, as if his tenuous relationship with his father, and coming out of the 'mutant closet' he had another Mary-Sue stalker to put up with.

* * *

A young girl stumbled into the carriage with ironic grace, her perfectly black hair tumbled, also gracefully, from her shoulders and shrouded her face like that of a vengeful Japanese ghost.

"Holy mother of-" someone started.

Angelina-Laurina looked up, her hair parting like an illustrious gothic curtain, and stared into the startled eyes of a hansom young man of about twenty. He clutched at his bag, mouth wide open as if he was torn between rabid terror and lust. "Hello," Angelina-Laurina said meekly, her voice chiming like the strings of a thousand harps played by angels sitting on the whitest clouds; this was ironic as the man she gazed upon looked like the prettiest (in a non-gay way…well, actually, wait for chapter two) angel in heaven. His face was divine, and his gorgeous blonde hair was elegantly sculpted with hair gel. Beneath his smart Armani suit, Angelina guessed, he was lithe and well muscled. "did I startle you?" she wondered.

"Um-er, well, uh, erm." the angelic man mumbled "Well, yes, yes you did. It's just…" the man rustled around in his bag and retrieved a DVD: Ringu, directed by Ang Lee "I'm taking this back to Blockbusters. It scared the bejesus out of me."

Angelina-Laurina laughed, and her laugh was like a thousand bells tinkling in a gentle breeze. The man gawked at her and drooled a little, she was so beautiful he couldn't help but fall instantly, totally, madly in love with her. "Anyway, I'm Angelina-Sky Pilkington-Rainbow,"

"Seriously?" The man said.

"I know, it's a bit pretentious," Angelina-Laurina giggled, her large emerald green eyes rolling majestically. "my Mum was a hippy and my Dad was upper class. What's your name?"

"Warren Worthington the third."

"Bummer."

"Yeah. My mother had no opinion and my father was unimaginative _and _American." Warren shrugged. "so really I was destined to have a number in my name despite the fact I'm not a member of the British royal family."

Somebody jabbed Angelina-Laurina in the back with and umbrella. "Get the hell out of my way! You're blocking the door, bitch!" An anonymous commuter yelled angrily.

"get bent!" Angelina-Laurina said rudely, sitting down and giving him the finger.

Warren sat down opposite her and smiled nervously. Angelina-Laurina smiled back.

"I want to bare your children." Angelina-Laurina said, thinking out loud.

"I think we should sex each other." Warren said, also apparently thinking out loud.

"What?"

"Eh?"

"Give me your phone number!"

"OK!" Angelina-Laurina pulled a contact card from her pocket and slipped it into Warren's hand, as their fingers touched a metaphorical spark of electricity passed between them. It was as if, in that single moment of touch a piece of their souls passed between them, forever entangling/linking/entwining their hearts in a web of love.

"Ow, static shock!" Warren winced as a literal spark of electricity passed between them.

The train rattled to a stop, and again the doors opened. "My stop! Text me!" Angelina-Laurina called, rising from her seat and dashing out of the door with the grace of…well, you get the point.

Warren sighed deeply as the train moved off. Never in his life had he beheld such a beautiful woman, if he didn't see her again, he thought, he was go mad or die. Suddenly, as if by magic an extract from an appropriate song was quoted;

With my high-starched collar and my high-top shoes,

And my hair piled high upon my head,

I went to lose a jolly hour on the trolley and lost my heart instead.

With his light brown derby and his bright green tie,

He was quite the handsomest of men,

I started to yen so I counted to ten

Then I counted to ten again.

Clang, clang, clang went the trolley,

Ding, ding, ding went the bell,

Zing, zing, zing went my heartstrings,

From the moment I saw him I fell.

Chug, chug, chug went the motor,

Bump, bump, bump went the break,

Thump, thump, thump went my heartstrings,

When he smiled I could feel the car shake.

Well, not that appropriate, because it wasn't by Avril Lavigne and not everyone was particularly familiar with the music of Judy Garland, but whatever. Warren looked down at the piece of paper in his hand and changed his mind, it read:

Angelina-Laurina Pilkington-Rainbow

Practically perfect in every way.

Winner of Miss World 2003-2006

MOB: 07734-

Email: paper was a sickly pink colour, and decorated with a hearts and unicorns pattern. Warren yelped and looked around feverishly, "she's one of _those_!" He panicked, rolling the paper anxiously between his fingers. Should he throw it away or give it to someone he hated as a birthday present, or keep it for himself? As lovely as she was, he knew it would be a mistake to contact her. "Well," he said, "at least I didn't give her my contact details-"

"You gave her your full name." The man sitting next to him said casually.

The colour drained from Warrens face. "Oh god," he moaned, "not again! Well, at least she doesn't know where I live" Little did he know, fate…or coincidence would lead to Angelina-etc discovering just that!


	2. Another highly improbably coincidence

Angelina-**oh screw it** glanced at the torn piece of paper in her hand one more time and wrapped smartly on the door with her perfectly formed fist and waited patiently for a response. Eventually the door opened to reveal a man wearing startlingly trendy rose-tinted sunglasses. "Sup?" The man said lethargically.

"Is this Professor Xavier's school for mutants?" Angelina-etc said politely, her tresses of currently golden hair sparkling in the sunlight.

"Due to political correctness you have to say 'genetically-gifted youths' but yeah." The man smiled, opening the door wide "I'm Scott Summers, since Professor Xavier died I've been running this joint. What can I do for you?"

"My name is Angelina-Laurina Pilkington-Rainbow, and I'm a mutant." Angelina beamed, her smile literally knocking the man off his feet.

"Dude!" Scott Summers cried as he hit the ground. "why did you do that?"

"Erm, sorry. I think the word the author was looking for was 'figurative'." Angelina said nervously.

"O…Kay" Scott said slowly in a completely non alliterative manner, scrambling to his feet "what can you do, then?"

"Just about everything." Angelina said proudly.

"I mean, what are you powers, like telepathy or whatever,"

"Well, I have genetically superior beauty, I'm vastly intelligent, perfect, I can fly, I have the ability to make metaphors literal and I can change my hair colour at will."

Scott looked her up an down, "yeah sure, come on in."

Angelina followed Scott through an open plan reception area into what looked like a recreation room, and a number of young people and an older man sat around reading magazines and participating in other such activities. "so, what can you do?" She said breezily.

"I shoot lasers out of my eyes." Scott said glumly. "hence the cool shades. And people around here call me Cyclops."

"And I call him ass-face." A particularly hairy man said casually. "Wait a minute, didn't you die?"

Scott scratched his neck awkwardly, "yeah, kinda."

"So…you're a zombie?"

"No. I think this is a crossover with the comic verse."

"Right."

"Yeah."

"Which one?"

"I only read Wolverine and Deadpool." Scott shrugged.

"Well maybe because I'm so great you should read them all." The other man sneered.

"Well, maybe _your face_, Wolfboy. And FYI, I only read it for Deadpool, I don't even glance at your section." Scott said pathetically, "anyway, introductions, Angelina, this hairy son of a bitch is Logan aka Wolverine."

"Yo momma." Logan said, lighting a cigar.

"The chick with awesome hair streaks is Marie a k a Rogue,"

"Yo." Rogue swooned, converting her sexuality just like that.

"The guy reading Cosmo-girl is Steve a k a Emoboy."

"I'm not gay!" Steve ejaculated (as in the archaic definition, pervert.).

"Yes, you are." said everyone else.

"The blue dude is Kurt…"

"My name is Kurt Wagner, but in the Munich circus I was known as the amazing Nightcrawler!" Kurt announced proudly. The whole room groaned and Steve threw Cosmo-girl at him.

"And the other guy is Iceman." Scott finished, "there are other people around , make yourself at home."

Ashley smiled and gave a small wave, "hello everybody!" She said happily, "how are you?" Kurt, Rogue and Logan gawked in response.

"She's so beautiful" Kurt said dreamily,

"Her hair is so shiny!" Rogue gasped. Bobby looked upset and prayed to God that he didn't have _another _secretly gay girlfriend.

"Is that a Gucci bag?" Steve wondered.

"yes, yes and yes!" Angelina said perkily, "so what are your powers, guys?"

"Well, Everything I touch withers and dies, so I guess you could say I have the power of never loosing my virginity." Rogue said, looking slightly deflated "Bobby freezes stuff, Logan has a superhuman brooding complex, Kurt is part make up, part CGI," Kurt swished his tail to demonstrate, "and he teleports, and Steve has kinetic abilities, when he throws say a guitar or a doobie it automatically accelerates to light speed."

"Sort of like Gambit then?" Logan asked.

"Except I'm not lethal at snap." Steve said.

"And you wear dresses" Rogue added.

"And your favourite band is Bullet for my Valentine." Bobby interjected, "Gambit's more into R n B."

"Really?" Angelina said sweetly, "I love Bullet for My Valentine!"

"Yeah…I totally love them too!" Rogue announced, springing to her feet and hastily invading Angelina's personal space in a manner that was vaguely cartoon-like.

"Favourite band!" Logan cried, shoving Rogue out of the way.

"Slept with their lead singer!" Bobby agreed without thinking.

Angelina batted her long, sumptuous eyelashes, "what are your favourite songs?"

For a moment the boys and girl were silent.

"You've never even heard of Bullet For my Valentine, have you?"

"Um….no." Rogue said after a while.

"Never," Bobby agreed.

"I'm more into the death and black metal myself." Logan said pathetically. "Anything with death grunting really."

Angelina looked befuddled and shook her head.

"Really, no? you're not at all interesting in- oh never mind. So would you like to go on a date?" Logan said, cutting to the chase.

Angelina batted her eyelids and held her hands to her chest, "Oh Logan, I would, but you're just not my type." She said in her kindest voice.

Logan's lowered lip quivered "I've got something in my eye!" He squeaked, dashing out of the door.

"Am I your type?" Rogue piped up.

"Rogue!" Bobby snapped. Rogue gave him a confused look,

"Hey, worth a shot." Rogue shrugged, giving Bobby a frown.

Once again Rogue, Kurt and Bobby turned their attention to the Vision of Beauty who inspired their argument and declarations of love for a band they'd never heard of, and Steve turned his attention to the Vision of Beauty's shoes.

"Seriously, the girl likes her designers." Steve commented, "Bobby, you' re looking at her shirt, what do you think of it? I think she's totally workin' the purple, baby."

Bobby looked guilty and said, "Right, her shirt."

"Her Kurt, you're looking at her shirt too! Purple is totally her colour, isn't it?"

Kurt shrieked and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Angelina shrugged innocently. "I guess he doesn't like my shirt after all!"

* * *

AN: wow. Warren wasn't in that chapter! Not even slightly! 


	3. You're Not Gay

Many of the students of Professor Xavier's school for Gifted Youngsters (Head Master Scott Summers, BA) had gone home for the holidays and left a pleasant silence in their absence. Warren sighed and leaned against the urinal, and for once, he thought, he didn't have to do it in the presence of about three other guys.

"Warren!" a familiar voice cried.

"Ah! Dammit Kurt, you made me miss!" Warren shrieked, zipping up. So much for a few moments to himself.

"Es tut mir leid." Kurt said, _presumably_ apologetically because Warren didn't speak a word of German. "But, oh Warren, it is terrible!"

"What's terrible?"

"I have…" Kurt swooned dramatically, "I have been having impure thoughts!"

"Uhuh. But can you say it without staring at my crotch?" Warren said, smiling at his own joke.

Kurt looked confused, "Are you coming on to me?"

"No…I just…it was a joke."

"Oh."

"I guess it wasn't that funny."

"Not really." Kurt coughed uneasily. "So anyway, a woman has come to the mansion, and oh Warren, she was so beautiful! She had golden tresses which reached down to her…ahem, and such as, and such a voice, and a dazzling smile! I thought God had sent and Angel from heaven! And that's when I had an impure thought!"

"Uhuh!"

"I started picturing her…" Kurt turned away and stifled a sob with his fist, "naked! The shame!"

"Is that it? Bloody Catholics. Kurt, you big drama queen, turn around!" Warren said. Kurt obeyed, looking deeply upset. Warren snorted and shook his hand, "then congratulations Kurt, you're a man!"

Kurt paused thoughtfully before responding, "Oh my God, you didn't wash your hands!"

"Ah!" Warren yelped. Both men squealed hysterically and dashed to the sinks to wash their hands, "Ah dude, I can't believe I touched my thing and then you right after!"

"Oh GOD! I'm not listening! La la la!" Kurt screamed, his voice going up an octave.

"Sorry."

"Eew, eew, eew!"

"Kurt!"

"Eeew!"

"Chill!"

"Ok!" Kurt breathed deeply, "It didn't happen. So, this divine woman, she had every man and Rogue under her spell. Perhaps not an angel, I thought, but a siren!"

Warren nodded thoughtfully and stuck his hands under the drier, "or maybe she was just a really hot chick."

"Perhaps." Kurt said seriously,

"Every man in the room you say?"

"Not Emoboy Steve, he was under the spell of her handbag, but each of us had succumb to a deadly sin!"

"Guccis a deadly sin?" Warren smirked.

Kurt stared at Warren, "no, Steve was in the thralls of envy, and I and the others…lust."

"Are you sure it wasn't just admiration? I mean, you can admire someone's bag without wanting it yourself."

Kurt narrowed his eyes, "fucking smart ass."

* * *

Angelina-(I could do better things with my time than type out her full name) sat on a bench outside the mansion, contemplating her traumatic childhood as butterflies flittered around her heads and birds landed at her feet. The sun shone down on her perfectly white hair (™ Storm), reflecting off it and forming a halo of light around her angelic head. Not far away, behind a romantically gnarly oak tree Steve sat, playing a melancholy tune on his favourite guitar and ad libbing, "I'm sitting under a tree…and my heart wrenches within my bleeding chest cavity…" he sang, his voice flatter than a pancake. "swang song of my soul flies like an aaaaangeel" Steve strummed dramatically and started belting, "ANGEL OF LOOOVE, BABY, FLY! FLY LIKE MARY POPPINS IN THE NEW HIT MUSICAL, BABY! Oh yeah."

Angelina clamped her hands over her ears and winced, "was it that noise?" She wondered.

"My feelings are shards upon the floor, baby! Because you broke my heart! Baby!…" Suddenly, Steve's ramblings became a proper song, with coherent lyrics, rhyming, mitre, and a full backing orchestra.

I'm sitting under a tree

And somewhere… he's not thinking of me

That's why I'm crying tears of poison

My feelings are like shards of glass upon the floor

And there's nothing I can do at all…

Because…

You're not gay!

There ain't no way,

All I can do is cry

'cause you're not even bi

And I love

Yoooou!

With the shards of my soul upon the floor

I'm drowning in misery, baby.

And my mind is like the metaphor of the open door

There's nothing you can do because…

You're not gay!

There ain't no way,

All I can do is cry

'cause you're not even bi

And I love

Yoooou!

You'd say

"No there's nothing I can do,

It really is me, not you,

I'm really sorry but I have to say,

Steve I just don't swing that way,"

I spend all day writing angst and slash

And posting it on all of the night I smoke my stash

And laugh at my brother Bret

'Cause you're not gay!

Oh there's no way!

Every day I pray!

Dear God please make him gay,

But he's not gay

And I'm a guy!

And he's not thinking

Of Meeeee!

Steve finished the song and started crying into his guitar.

Angelina scratched her head and wondered what the entire Prague Symphony Orchestra was doing on the lawn. Just then, the front door of the mansion opened and Warren stepped into the sunlight. When he saw Angelina he screamed and choked on his chewing gum.

"Warren!" Angelina cried, "what a coincidence!"

"What are you doing here? How did you get my address?" Warren spluttered.

"Uh, I didn't know you lived here, I just came here because I'm a mutant and it seemed like a fun place to be!" Angelina explained. Suddenly an ear piercing scream came from behind the oak tree.

"Oh my god, I'm crying strychnine!" Steve screamed, "and I'm cutting my feet on my feelings!"

"Well maybe you shouldn't have sung violent metaphors, you know I make metaphors literal!" Angelina yelled back,

"The shards of feelings was a simile! Aaaah!" Steve screamed as his feelings embedded themselves in his flesh.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that. And onomatopoeia, watch out for those." Angelina said

"Aah! A tiny door just appeared in my forehead!"

"Shut up Steve!" Angelina returned her attention her attention to Warren and smiled adorably. "So Warren, I guess fate wants us to be together."

Steve started crying loudly.

Warren coughed awkwardly, "yeah , about that, you see, I'm not really ready for a relationship right-"

Angelina's big anime eyes widened and glistened with tears,

"I love you!" Warren declared, falling to his knees, "No! Shit! That's not it, what I'm saying is I think you're not my type-"

Angelina tossed her sumptuous tresses of golden hair. Warren stared at her for a moment.

"You remind me of my Barbie Repunzel!" He declared emotionally.

"Barbie?" Angelina said doubtfully,

"Yeah. Why, do you think it's weird I played with Barbie instead of Action Man?"

Behind the tree, Steve strummed his guitar and smiled happily, "_and he's not thinking of me…or is he?"_


	4. The trouble with onomatopoeia

**The next morning…**

Kurt appeared in the library with a loud bamf. The word 'bamf' followed by an excessive number of exclamation marks appeared in the air in large purple letters before fading away. "Wow, that's never happened before." He frowned.

"Happens to me all the time." Angelina said casually, glancing up from her newspaper. "This one time I banged my head on a cabinet, turned around and cracked my skull open on the word 'thwack'. Oh and I wouldn't swear in front of me, once hashes and 'at' signs appear, there's no getting rid of them."

Kurt stared at the impossibly beautiful goddess of beauty and perfection before him, and looked mightily confused. "I vill bare zat in mind," he said in an annoyingly presented German accent.

"So anyway," Angelina burst in a rather preppy manner, "I'm like, totally in love with Warren!"

"Sheisse!" Kurt exclaimed. "I mean…good for you. I'm not jealous vone bit."

"Me neither." Rogue, who was also apparently there, coughed.

"Not even slightly." Logan growled, his claws popping out of his knuckles along with the word 'snikt' in bubble writing.

"Right." Angelina looked mildly worried and continued, "so, I'm like totally going to marry him!"

"Does…does um…gee…" Logan stuttered awkwardly, his claws sliding back into his forearms with a 'snakt' in a surprisingly small font. "Warren doesn't know about that arrangement, does he?"

Angelina rolled her eyes, "Oh, of course not! It's a surprise!" She cried. "Anyway, I'm sure he'll be mightily pleased. I'm having 'will you marry me' written in the sky with fireworks this evening, and the Prague Symphonic Orchestra are going to perform 'Stranger in Paradise'"

"Right, and where would you be putting this orchestra?"

"In the bushes, of course!"

Logan blinked, "of course."

Rogue ran away crying.

"I wonder what that was about." Angelina said, naively concerned.

"I have no idea, it's not as if it's blindingly obvious." Logan lied, lighting a cigar.

Angelina gazed at Logan and started drooling copiously. She had not previously recognised how rugged and manly he was he was. "Oh Logan!" She gasped.

"What?" He growled.

"I hadn't noticed how muscular your forearms were!

Logan smiled boyishly through the fat cigar, "do you think so? I mean, I work out a lot. I'm involved in a lot of heavy action sequences, so I have to keep fit really."

"That is so cool!" Angelina said.

"Yeah. I have to kill a lot of people, too,"

"What?"

"Nothing."

Kurt yelped.

"What's up, Kurt?" Angelina said innocently.

"Nothing At all." Kurt said.

"Really?"

Kurt squealed and launched into a monologue, "Vhy does Logan get all the girls? Just because he's rugged and, and vell muscled, and a bad boy! It's just not fair! Angelina, vhat is it zat you find so attractive about bastards? Is it ze number of homicides zey have under their belt? Does zat turn you on?"

"Uh-" Angelina started.

"No! You don't get to interrupt me, zis is a rhetorical speech!" Kurt cried, "so you can keep your dialogue to yourself, danke schon! Oh, because it's so sexy that he treats everyone like sheisse, and because he never bathes or observes ze law! Vell, you know Vhat! I've had it! I've had it Viz mister 'cigars make me look cool'! Logan, you suck! I hope you die alone!"

The door opened conspicuously, to reveal a furry blue Hank looking faintly bored and scratching his arse. "Uh, hi." He said, sensing the negative atmosphere, "I'm uh, I need a dictionary."

"Really? Are there some vords your actually don't know? Are you not verbose enough? Your prose not purple enough?" Kurt snapped.

"I just need the really big Oxford dictionary." Hank said, "what's up with you, Kurt, bee up your ass?"

"Ooh, who are you?" Angelina cried, "I'm Angelina-Laurina Pilkington-Bush!"

"I'm Doctor McCoy" Hank said. Logan inconspicuously retrieved the biggest dictionary in the library and handed it to Hank.

Angelina giggled girlishly, "Hey, shouldn't you be on a Starship in the twenty-third century?"

Doctor McCoy looked annoyed "I'm Doctor Phd, not MD! Fuck you!" and he stormed away in a huff.

"Gosh, he's not very cheerful, is he?" Angelina commented.

"Excuse me!" Kurt said, "but I sink I vas in ze middle of a monologue."

"No, you're done." Logan said

"I never get ze girls! Vhy? Because I'm reliable, and nice and-" Kurt protested,

"First of all," Logan said, patting his shoulder, "It's known as the 'Sawyer Principle', secondly," Logan yanked a comic out of the nearby magazine rack and gave it to Kurt.

Kurt flicked through the comic and slowly his eyes widened, "Oh my God, Ororo _and _Marvel Girl?"

"Happy now?"

Kurt pondered the question, "Ja."

"Anyway, who the hell is Marvel girl?" Logan asked.

"I don't know, but she clearly doesn't see ze folly in vearing fluorescent green and yellow…and a crop top and mini skirt at zat!" Kurt exclaimed.

"How eighties!" Logan said disapprovingly.

Angelina coughed, "so, Logan, shall we go spoon in the broom closet or were you planning on doing that with Kurt?"

"Lets go." Logan said. Logan and Angelina exited the room hand in hand, leaving Kurt to quietly smirked about the prospect of at least being able to pull in the comics.


	5. Storm is a beatch

AN: slight political incorrectness may ensue.

* * *

In the brief day that Angelina-some-other-names-which-I-forget had been at the mansion, she had become the most popular young girl there. Everyone greeted her with a smile except…

For Storm. For Storm was the token bitch whose jealous glares and inexplicable racism cast a black shadow of bitchiness over the mansion, making Angelina's light of loveliness glow even stronger.

Storm glared from the corner of the canteen at Angelina as she ate her breakfast. Oh, how she envied the graceful manner in which Angelina ate her Shreddies, "tramp." Storm whispered to herself.

"So's your face." Emma Forst said, tucking into her croissant.

"No, I meant that bitch who radiates rays of sunlight out of her ass."

"What, Firefly?"

"No, the girl who's out to wed Warren."

Angelina screamed as a bright white light lanced out of her behind and incinerated the wall behind her.

"Oh, the metaphor chick." Emma said, her mouth full.

"Her power also encompasses figures of speech, it would seem." Storm said snidely "big, fat Jew that she is."

"I didn't know she was a Jew." Emma said,

"She must be, because I hate her." Storm spat.

Emma looked surprised. "Storm, that's really racist."

"And I hate Emoboy Steve too, he's so gay."

"Storm, that is a really awful thing to say, you really are a Bitch!"

Storm shot Emma a mean look, "you're a bitch too."

"Yeah, but not in the psycho racist sort of way," Emma said.

Storm took her straw out of her milk and made a spit ball at Angelina. Angelina, who's butt was still converting hydrogen into helium and had reduced three students to ash screamed and ran out into the mansion grounds.

Storm smiled triumphantly, but inside her innards twisted with envy and guilt. Angelina was so perfect, she deserved to have the sun shine down upon her, not out of her ass. She was beautiful, and nice, and not one bit anti-Semitic, she was everything that Storm wasn't. "I wish I was pretty and not racist." she murmured to herself.

"What's that?" Emma said,

"Uh, I dislike the people of Norway. And the French"

* * *

Warren found Angelina sitting in the cold darkness of her room, weeping pitifully. "Oh Angelina, what's wrong?" he said, surrendering to the feelings of love and commitment which coursed through his veins.

"I killed three people with my ass!" Angelina sobbed, falling into his arms. "And my childhood was blighted by cruelty and violence!"

"Do you want to talk about it?" Warren said, soothingly.

"My father was Joseph Stalin!" Angelina shrieked.

"Uh…how? You're like seventeen."

"Time-travel."

"Oh."

"I was the Doctor's assistant!" Angelina blurted, "Oh Warren, I saw my father do terrible things! You have no idea what he did to Russia!"

"I do," Warren sighed, patting her back, "I did history."

"He did such evil things…and I could do nothing about it! Then the Doctor took me away in his TARDIS and I thought things would be better…but you have no idea what the Daleks did to the Doctor! They made him all angst-ridden and possibly bipolar because sometimes he was all 'oh, I'm so sad, I'm the last of the Time Lords and my favourite assistant Rose is in an alternate dimension with blimps', and other times he was all 'hooray, I like peanut butter, and jam, and pencils, wow don't they make everything so joyous and fantastic'. Oh Warren! You have no idea!"

"Uh, OK."

"And Warren! The Cybermen! They turned people into automatons, and Captain Jack, he used to be all happy go lucky and swash buckling but then he died and on Torchwood he was all sad and sidelined by his co-star! Do you know how much screen time he got? Hardly any! And Lost; Oh Warren, season two was so much better and Desperate Housewives is funny but-"

"TV makes you sad?"

Angelina howled, "I have post traumatic stress! Every time I hear a gate close I scream, because Warren, Sawyer could have been shot on Lost! You never know what the network will do next! You just don't know what the networks will do anymore, you may think 'what would Lost be without Sawyer', but what is The X Files without Mulder and Scully? Goddammit, they left! They left and got replaced by two extremely average characters! Who the hell can fill the shoes of Gillian-"

"AAAH!" Warren screamed. Angelina fell silent. "I watch The X Files too, Angelina, I know how it felt but, the horror of their leaving does not compare to…" Warren sniffed, "the cold loveless look of my father!"

"My father was cold and loveless too!"

"My father was obsessed with making me normal!"

"My father was obsessed with oppressing the poor and killing intellectuals!"

"My father messed me up!"

"My father messed Russia up!"

"You win!"

And so Warren and Angelina shared in their sorrows and wept so much they became dehydrated.


	6. Meh

The next night…or possibly that night…

The dark velvet sky was studded with starry gems, and glow worms flitted about the trees like little fairy lights. Angelina (whose behind was now pleasantly cool) took Warren onto the balcony. Below them Prague Symphony Orchestra attempted to play the Braveheart theme as a pair of angry Nightjars dive bombed them and pecked at their ears. Angelina gazed emotionally into Warren's eyes, and Warren struggled with inner conflict. She was so beautiful, so mesmerising, but so were his previous girlfriends and they had all turned into raging psychotics Every ounce of rationality strove against the flush of lust; she would certainly turn into a stalker and take up all of his time. _Oh, _he thought, _she's so damn pretty!_

"Oh Warren!" Angelina cried dramatically.

"What?" Warren said in the least romantic way possible.

Suddenly the sky exploded with light as several dozen illegal fireworks burst 'will u maryr em' in large wonky letters.

Warren look confused, "Was the guy who set those fireworks up by any chance dyslexic?"

"I set them up." Angelina said.

"Are _you _dyslexic?"

"Only mildly. Anyway, what I was trying to ask you was…" Angelina fell to her knees and produced a ring from her cleavage. "Warren, we are soul mates. I have a cold and distant and probably abusive father, you have a cold and distant and probably abusive father; you're very pretty, I am very pretty. We have to much in common for our meeting to be anything less than fate. I believe we should be together forever. Oh Warren, will you marry me!"

Warren gaped like a fish. _Don't say yes! Don't say yes! _His brain cried out. _Say yes, say yes, _cried and entirely different organ. "Ummm," Warren began. Angelina looked hopeful. "You see, it's like…emotional issues…look over there, it's Hilary Duff!"

"Oh, where!" Angelina looked around wildly, and saw nothing. Turning back, she found that Warren and the entirety of the Prague Symphony Orchestra had all disappeared. Angelina scratched her head and looked confused "Why would he lie to me like that?" She wondered.

* * *

Warren slammed the front door behind himself and flattened his back against it, panting heavily. He found himself face to face with Kurt.

"Vhat is up? Have sings not verked out viz Fraulein Angelina?" Kurt said hopefully.

Warren wrung his with confliction, "she asked me to marry her! I want to say yes, Kurt, but I've been with like a thousand girls and a few guys just like her! We'll fall so madly and deeply in love we won't be able to take our eyes off each other, and after a while, Kurt, that gets kind of annoying. I like to have friends, and temperate emotion."

"So zhere is no chance of her straying?"

"What?"

"If she vas sehr, sehr drunk."

Warren stared at Kurt, "excuse me?"

"Nozing." Kurt said quickly.

"Anyway," Warren continued, "the minute my blood stops flowing to my wiener and goes to my head I'll realise that there is something deeply insufferable about an extremely clingy chick digs pink pony wallpaper. But currently, currently I am wildly in love with her! I can't tell how annoying she is! I'm gonna walk right down the aisle with her and I won't be able to stop myself!"

"Vell…" Kurt said. "Maybe you should sink of your Grandma, vhen I am under ze spell of beautiful voman I sink of my Grandma, and ze I come to my senses. If you get my drift."

"Can't hurt trying." Warren thought of his Grandma, and lo and behold… "Man! That Angelina chick is really annoying! Hey Kurt, why don't you try your own remedy?"

Kurt thought of his own Grandma. "I don't know vhy I didn't do zat when her blouse unbuttoned in ze canteen today instead of declaring my love for her!" He cried.

* * *

Warren had been sitting on the settee enjoying ice cold beer with Wolverine for several hours before Angelina found him. "Warren! I've been looking all over for you!" She exclaimed.

Warren thought of his Grandma before responding, "uh yeah, about that…"

"Wolverine! I totally ran into you and Emma Frost in the lobby, how did you get here?"

"Uh, I'm omnipresent. As we speak I'm in Hong Kong with the Fantastic Four battling monsters _and _in London with Team America World Police blowing up Buckingham palace." Logan smiled uncharacteristically.

"What about that Emma chick? I haven't seen her at the mansion until today!"

"Oh, she said that if Cyclops had a right to exist after having died she did too, after having not existed."

"Oh."

"So!" Warren coughed, "about the marriage proposal! Can't do it, I'm afraid, you see it's not you, it's…it is you."

"What?" Angelina said, her big eyes brimming with tears, "but I love you! Was it the proposal itself? I new I should have gone with the London Sessions Orchestral instead!"

"Uh no, it's…you're crazy."

Angelina bowed her head sombrely, "I see," she said quietly. "Can we at least just have sex then?"

"No!" Warren cried, "you can go away. That would make me happy."

"can I grope you wings?"

"No! what the hell of a kinda question is that?"

Angelina paused. "I want to marry you!"

"Jesus, what the hell is wrong with you? You're a freaking loony! Get the hell out of here!"

"But Warren!" Angelina cried hysterically, "I love you!"

"Aaah!" Warren cried, his sanity quite at the end of its tether.

Logan and Kurt sniggered to themselves.

"You want me to take care of her, kiddo?" Logan sneered.

"yes! Oh God, I've had it up to here with these fan girls!" Warren wailed, gesticulating wildly.

Logan flashed a sinister grin and winked, "say Angelina, wanna go outside and uh…watch all the guys uh swoon at you?"

"Sure!" Angelina cried.

Angelina and Logan promptly left the room together.

Five minutes later Logan returned carrying a bulging black bin bag over his shoulder.

"What's that?" Warren said, looking faintly dismayed.

"You saw nothing." Logan eyed the room guiltily, and made for the back door.

"Bu-"

"You saw nothing!"

And that was pretty much the denouement. It wasn't very sophisticated, but Logan turned out to be a very adequate and albeit poorly disguised plot device for causing the downfall of Angelina.

So Angelina…went home because of a family emergency… and they all lived happily ever after, especially Steve who came out of the closet and married Cyclops. Except for Consuela, the young mutant with the psychic ability to make everyone speak in rhyming couplets, she broke her leg in a particularly rough game of rugby. Storm also did not live happily ever after, she was chased out of the mansion for inciting hatred and being extraordinarily out of character.

The end.


End file.
